


Two Roads Converged

by Elsie_Snuffin



Category: NCIS
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Episode: s13e24 Family First, F/M, Fix-It, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-26
Updated: 2016-05-26
Packaged: 2018-07-10 08:41:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6976003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elsie_Snuffin/pseuds/Elsie_Snuffin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She remembers that anything is possible, even for broken former assassins. This is a fix-it for Family First (so therefore SPOILER ALERT) and the Tony/Ziva (Tiva) storyline. Back up one year. Some convergence with Family First, but mostly AU. One shot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Roads Converged

**Author's Note:**

> Sort of canon, but I'm fixing it so it is better. Back up a year or so. Spoilers for Family First. Ziva is alive, Tali exists. The timeline jumps back and forth a bit, so we jump from past tense to present, both in Ziva’s and Tony’s POVs. I love Ziva and she deserves a happier ending than she got (although I don’t really believe she is dead, either). Cross posted to FF.net under aka-elsie-snuffin.
> 
> Disclaimer: Just borrowing the characters to take them for a joy ride.

 

In the past year and some months - pretty much since he left Tel Aviv - she has almost contacted him many times. A mixture of pride and genuinely not wanting to bother him any further stopped her each time, as well as a sense of not deserving his love. She has no place in his life, not if she wants to spare him from more hurt and pain.

She is a grenade, and it is best if she stays away, where she will do minimal damage once she inevitably exploded.

When she closes her eyes, she can see the hurt on his face that she caused too many times. 

When she had confronted him after he killed Michael Rivkin.

When she could not look him in the eye after he had gone all the way to Somalia to pull her out of hell.

When he found out she had gone to McGee for help in finding her father’s killer.

When he found out about her one night dalliance with Adam Eschel.

When she sent him away from Israel the last time.

And those are only the highlights. There are countless smaller moments when she saw confusion and pain flicker in his eyes before he pasted on a poker face or flashed a bright, fake smile. 

He is a good man. She does not deserve him and he does not deserve the pain she has caused him. 

But despite all this, here she is now, staring at the computer screen, mouse hovering over his name on her instant messenger contacts list. She bites her lip, debating silently with herself. After a few minutes of back and forth, she huffs out an impatient breath and clicks on his name to bring up a message box. She types, _Hi Tony,_ then quickly hits enter to send the message before she can lose her courage.

Then she waits.

 

* * *

 

The previous evening, she had made up her mind on the condition that she would not be disturbing him. Maybe he has moved on, has the shiny relationship he always longed for. She would not ruin that for him. She wants him to be happy. If she did not love him so much, maybe she would not be so unwilling to step back into his life, leaving more damage in her wake. 

Who could she contact for that information? Certainly not Gibbs. Ducky would have words of wisdom and a surprisingly relevant anecdote or two but little usable information about Tony’s personal life. She needed intel. 

McGee was a more viable option, but she knew he tried hard to not know anything about Tony’s life outside the office. He would be most likely to keep their conversation secret but she was not convinced he would have the reassurance she needed. 

In the end, she settled on Abby. Ziva knew from experience that the forensics expert shamelessly dug into everyone’s personal lives. She was also notoriously horrible at lying and would be unable to keep from telling the truth if asked. But she also knew Abby was fiercely protective of her NCIS family and trusted that she would do her best to shield Tony from any harm. Abby would be honest with her about whether Ziva reentering his life would cause too much trouble.

She waited until a time when Abby would be likely to be home. She did not want to risk getting interrupted while speaking with her in the lab. This meant that Ziva was awake at 0500, but she cared little.

Turning on her webcam, she squared her shoulders and made sure her surroundings did not give away too much. Abby answered the call almost right away. “Ziva!” she exclaimed, pigtails bobbing in excitement. 

“Hello, Abby.” Ziva smiled at her bright pink pajama top with what looked like skulls dotting them. 

“It’s been so long! I want to hug you. Isn’t it super early over there? Or are you not in Israel anymore?” Even after what was likely a long day in the lab, Abby was still a bundle of energy. Ziva wondered how many Caf-Pows she had had that day. 

“I am still in Israel and it is early, but you know I don't mind an early morning,” she replied. 

Abby grinned in acknowledgement. “You should have called when I was still in the lab. I’m sure the guys would have loved to see you, too,” she commented. 

“Actually, I wanted to speak to you alone. I need your advice.” Ziva figured there was no reason to dance around the truth of her call, as happy as she was to speak to her old friend. She had limited time before the baby would be awake and the last thing she wanted was for Abby to hear a baby crying in the background. She would quickly put two and two together, and there was no way she would keep _that_ news to herself.

Abby put on her serious face and even her pigtails looked more serious. “Of course! How can I help?”

Ziva hesitated and took a deep breath. “It’s about Tony,” she began slowly. The forensic scientist’s eyebrows raised but she kept quiet, waiting for Ziva to continue. “I am thinking of inviting him to visit, but I want to know first if I would be…” She trailed off, searching for the right word. “Bothering him.”

Without hesitation, Abby responded. “You would _definitely_ not be bothering him. Do it!” 

This was a better response than she had hoped, but still she hesitated. “Are you sure?”

Pigtails bobbed enthusiastically. “Oh yeah. He doesn’t say anything but his eyes look so sad. He really misses you.”

A pang went through her heart as she thought of the pain she was causing him, even from the other side of the world. 

Abby’s dark eyes narrowed suddenly. “You’re not going to mess him around again, are you?” she asked.

The sudden sharp tone took her slightly aback. “What do you mean?” 

“I mean, he went to find you, was gone for months, then he came back without you. And he was a wreck. I’ve known him a long time and I’d never seen him like that before. I don’t know what happened between you guys but I never want to see him like that again. You really hurt him, you know.” 

Ziva closed her eyes at the accusatory tone and couldn’t reply. Maybe it was better if she didn’t contact him. Her throat closed up. This was a bad idea. 

“Tell me how you really feel about him,” Abby demanded, her tone still sharp. 

She should have known Abby would ask this. After taking a deep breath to control the flood of emotions, she said the words she had never admitted out loud. “I love him, Abby.” 

Abby nodded, satisfied.. “I know you do,” she said softly, the accusatory tone gone. “You should invite him to visit you. And you should tell him you love him. He deserves it. And so do you.”

Tears sprung into her eyes at her friend’s gentle response. “You are a very good friend, Abby Sciuto.” 

Abby grinned broadly. “I am an excellent friend, Ziva,” she corrected. “Now, do you want to hear about the new lady I think Gibbs has his eye on? She’s a redhead, of course.” 

Ten minutes of shameless gossiping later, they disconnected with promises to catch up more regularly. 

Not for the first time, Ziva was struck by how much she had left behind.

 

* * *

 

The Aunts were aghast when she had broken the news to them that she was pregnant and would be raising the baby on her own. Nettie had demanded, “Who is this man who refuses to take responsibility for his actions? We will string him up by his ears!” 

Ziva held up her hands. “Aunt Nettie! That will not be necessary. This is my decision,” she reassured her headstrong aunt. Upon the skeptical looks from her father’s sisters, she added, “He does not know. And I am not going to tell him.”

They had all turned their shocked faces to her. The Aunts always seemed to move as one unit, with Nettie, the oldest, speaking for them all. Ziva gave them a stubborn look and threw her shoulders back. “I do not need a man’s help to raise a child,” she announced. 

“I warned Eli that he was making you too independent,” Nettie muttered, shooting her a dark look. But as a collective unit, they had said no more about the father and had rallied around her. 

Ziva wondered what Nettie would say if she told her that the father was the same man who had pretended to be her husband and yelled at her on the phone years ago.

 

* * *

 

When she had found out she was pregnant, her first thought was to call him. She knew he would drop everything and be at her side in an instant. 

But that was not what she wanted. He had a career that he loved and she was not going to interrupt him. Whenever he decided he was ready, he would be a team leader and she did not want to be responsible for derailing his life.

She did not want to live her mother’s life, either, always waiting for her man to come home. And she did not want her child to have the childhood she had, always waiting for a father who was too busy with work. 

The more reasonable part of her argued that it would not be the same, that Tony was a better man than her father and would be a better father. But still, she did not want him to feel obligated to be with her. 

Then there was the little matter of her crushing guilt over the deaths she has caused over the years. From Ilan Bodnar, the last person she killed, to her first victim, killed when Ziva was still a teen, and everyone in between. In most cases, she was following orders and at least when she joined NCIS, the killings were in defense of life. That mattered not to her.  All the killings weighed on her equally as she had spiraled downward into her own personal hell after her old friend Dinah had spat bitter words about how Ziva had killed the love of her life. Ari.

Forget the fact that Ari had betrayed his country and been a killer himself. Forget the fact that he had been about to kill Gibbs. Forget the fact that she had orders from her father. 

Her own brother, with whom she had grown up. She had shot a bullet through his head. 

She had not considered the collateral damage that followed. In order to do her job as an assassin and as an NCIS agent, she could not think of those things then. But she could now. Why should she have happiness when she tore it so cruelly from others? 

So she did not call him. She pushed him out of her mind repeatedly, focusing instead on getting all the things a baby needed. She had no idea the extent of the stuff that was required. Thankfully, her aunts were more than willing to help.

Loneliness weighed her down as much as her expanding belly if she stopped for a moment to think, so she didn’t stop. She shopped, set up a nursery in the bedroom that had belonged to her and Tali, went to doctor’s appointments, spent time with the Aunts. She had not been able to do so since she was a child, thanks to her time in the IDF and Mossad, then in the US. They were aging, although gracefully, and they were the only family she had left.

In the rare moments when she stopped to consider things, she missed her other family. She missed McGee’s even temper and kindness. She missed Abby’s insistence on “girl talk: and fierce loyalty. She missed Gibbs’ stoicism and unexpected sense of humor. She missed Ducky and his wisdom. She even missed Palmer’s inappropriate comments and awkwardness. 

She especially missed Tony, her partner with whom she spent more time than she had spent with anyone before. With his dumb jokes, movie references, and eyes that looked at her like he knew everything about her and was willing to worship her anyway. 

But there were so many things he did not know about her, about the things she had done. She could never tell him and the shame of it kept her from even sending him an email. 

She convinced herself that it was better this way.

 

* * *

 

_Every time I look at her desk, every time I close my eyes… I just feel like I made a mistake. Like I made… the wrong decision. Only it wasn’t me who decided._  

Eventually, he was able to sleep again. He had to resort to sleeping pills, but it was either that or go full blown nutty from lack of sleep. With increased sleep, the feeling that he wasn’t where he was supposed to be lessened to a point where he could function again. 

She was an essential part of him, like a hand or pancreas or lung. He didn’t know when she snuck in, set up shop in his soul - he supposed it was fitting, since she was a ninja and all. But after she left, he had to learn how to adapt. How to go on with his life without that essential part. 

And because he is nothing if not adaptive, he learned. He started living his life again. Except that feeling never truly went away. She was still in his head, lurking in the dark corners of his mind, sneaking up on him when he least suspected it. Maybe he should have resented this, tried harder to move past her. But along with adaptive, he is a bit of a masochist. 

He needed her to come along every once in a while and clobber him him over the head. Sometimes her name would come up while they were working a case. Sometimes he would get a whiff of something that smelled like her shampoo. Sometimes he would just be sitting there and get overwhelmed with the urge to say something to make her laugh.

He didn’t want to forget her. She was another in a line of women who broke his heart. But she was also more than that and he needed to remember. And hope beyond hope. 

That things weren’t over. He knew as long as she was out there, breathing, he would find his way back to her. He just needed to be patient. 

 

_Just because you want it doesn’t mean it’s going to happen._  

_Tell me about it. Funny, it never stops me from trying._

 

* * *

 

Most unexpectedly, she connected with Orli Elbaz. The woman she once hated because she thought she had broken up her parents’ marriage. Upon learning that she had moved back to Tel Aviv, Orli took it upon herself to make sure that no one from Ziva’s past targeted her in her retirement. Maybe she felt that she owed her. Maybe she did it on Eli’s behalf. 

They had lunch together regularly and while Ziva never expressly said that she was pregnant, it became apparent. 

“Who is the father?” Orli asked her one day, abruptly.

Ziva sighed. As much as she liked Orli, she did not want to talk about it. After a moment of silence, Orli raised an eyebrow. “You know I could find out on my own who the father is. Unless you do not know?” She pointed her fork at the younger woman. “In which case, I can do some digging and we can solve that mystery.” 

She rolled her eyes. “I know who the father is, Orli. I have not exactly been spending the last few years partying and sleeping with strange men.” 

“Yes. You have been working hard. Which begs the question, who is the father?” Orli fixed her with a look. 

With another sigh, Ziva said, “I believe you met him a few times. Tony DiNozzo.” She had not said his name out loud in months and she looked away from Orli’s probing gaze to blink back the tears that suddenly threatened. 

The older woman raised both of her eyebrows this time. “Your NCIS partner? Yes, I remember him. He is quite handsome.” 

Ziva smiled sardonically. “Yes, I suppose that is why I let him impregnate me.”

“He does not know, does he?” 

“No.” She said it sharply, signaling an end to the line of questioning. Orli pursed her lips, then dropped it.

 

* * *

 

She managed to run into Adam Eschel only once after she moved back to Israel. She dodged his calls for months only to run into him at a grocery store when she was eight months pregnant. She was waddling down the produce section in search of a sweet fruit to satisfy her craving when she heard the familiar voice call her name. 

She spun around as quickly as her big belly would allow, and almost laughed out loud when she saw Adam’s eyes widen comically. “Shalom, Adam,” she said casually.

He looked gobsmacked - she could never figure out the etymology of the word but onomatopoetically, it seemed fitting - and she could almost see the wheels turning in his head as he calculated backward. “It is not yours. Relax,” she reassured him. 

He chuckled and then leaned in to hug her carefully. “It is good to see you, Ziva. I see why you did not return my calls and I suppose I must forgive you. Is Tony with you?” 

She blinked at him, surprised. “What makes you ask that?” 

“He is the father, is he not?” he shrugged. On her blank look, he elaborated. “The times I met him, he seemed… protective of you. I assumed there was something going on.” 

She wanted to deny it, but as the evidence was unmistakable, she gave him a rueful half smile. “No, he is not here. I have not seen him in months.” 

It was his turn to look surprised. “Really? Would you like me to beat him up?” 

She smiled. “No, that is not necessary. You look well.” 

“As do you. I have to run back to work, but we should catch up soon. Shalom!” He almost tripped over his feet in his haste to get away. She had to stifle another laugh as she waved goodbye to him. 

She has not seen him since.

 

* * *

 

Orli broached the subject again, some months after Ziva gave birth to a girl who could only be named Tali. They watched little Tali sleep peacefully in the bassinet that she outgrew but still insisted on napping in. Then Ziva said urgently, “If anything happens to me, Orli, you must bring her to Tony.”

The older woman looked sharply at her. “Is something going on?” She thought quickly back on her most recent debriefing and did not recall any items that involved either Ziva or Eli. 

“No,” Ziva assured her. “I was just thinking. We know better than anyone that things can happen. The Aunts would take her, of course, but they are getting old and they should not have to assume the responsibility. Tony will take good care of her.” 

“Even if he knows nothing of her beforehand?” Orli arched her eyebrow pointedly at Ziva, who chose to ignore it.

“Yes. You do not even need to tell him that he is her father. He will keep her safe” 

At this, Orli’s patience snapped. “Ziva! Listen to yourself! You trust that man to take care of your daughter, but you do not respect him enough to tell him the truth?” 

Ziva narrowed her eyes and gestured to Orli to move out of the nursery so as to not awaken Tali. As they moved down the stairs, her anger at the other woman’s sharp words deflate as she realized how right she was. Once they were downstairs and the baby monitor was turned on, Ziva turned to her. “I know,” she said, not with anger but regret. “I should have told Tony.” 

“Yes,” Orli responded pointedly. “So why don’t you?”

“I…” Ziva hesitated, then sighed. “It is too late. If I tell him now, he will be angry that I did not tell him before she was born. This is easier for everyone.” 

Orli crossed her arms and shook her head. “It is easier for _you_. What about Tali? Does she not deserve to know her father?”  

Tears appeared, unbidden, in Ziva’s eyes. She wiped them away impatiently. “What am I supposed to do? Tell him, ‘Oh, sorry for not telling you sooner but you have a daughter’?” 

“To start with, yes,” Orli said. “You trust him, right?” 

“With my life,” Ziva replied, sniffling. 

“Then you must tell him. Or you will regret it forever. I may not have any children, but I know a few things about regret.” She turned away from Ziva and sighed, the only time she had ever hinted at her affair with Ziva’s father.

Ziva sat with a sigh on the couch she had once shared with Tony as he urged her to let him in. Orli was right, of course. It was not fair to Tali or Tony. It would not be easy, but it would only get more difficult and her guilt would eventually crush her. If she wanted to truly leave behind her assassin past, she had to let go of the secrets and be honest. 

So she took a deep breath, let go, and began to formulate a plan.

 

* * *

 

She does not need to wait long. 

He responds to her message quickly, as if he was worried she would disappear back into the ether. _Well, hey there._ A beat, then another message appears. _How are things?_  

_They are fine. Do you feel up to a vacation?_ She doesn’t want to stall with small talk, in case he has to go before she can execute this part of the plan she spent a month crafting. 

In her mind, she can see his eyebrows shooting up. _With you? Anytime. What do you have in mind?_  

It is now or never. _Come to Israel._  

She chews on a nail as she waits for a response. Instead of a message, she gets a video chat call from him. After a quick glance behind her to make sure baby items are not lurking, she accepts. For the first time in over a year, they are face to face. Or, as close to face to face as two people thousands of miles away from each other can be.

His hairline has receded just a little and he clearly looks tired. He smiles warmly at her. “Hi,” he says, and the sound of his voice fills her with warmth.

“Shalom,” she replies, smiling back. 

“You really want me to come visit?” he asks, his voice eager. She can sense an underlying apprehension, however, and understands why he wants to hear her confirm it. 

She smiles wider. “Yes. Can you get the time off?” 

He gives her a full, genuine smile. “Gibbs and Vance owe me so much, I could go on vacation for the rest of my career. I’ll take the first flight out I can get.” 

Her heart soars at his words. This is infinitely better than she had imagined. “Really?”

“Yeah! You have perfect timing. We just wrapped up a case and haven’t gotten a new one yet.” She hears the sound of typing. “I’m finding a flight now. I’ll text you flight details when I have them.”

She shakes her head at him. “You are incredible,” she blurts out.

He grins. “So I’ve been told. Count to a million. I’m on my way.”

 

* * *

 

He texts her his flight details and then fairly dances around his apartment as he begins packing. He doesn’t care that he will be flying coach, the itinerary includes a lengthy layover in Spain, and with the time difference, he will be traveling for more than 24 hours. It doesn’t matter that he bought a one way ticket. 

He is on his way back to her. 

Still, he is a responsible adult, despite what others might think. He makes a mental note to talk to the little girl down the hall and give her a key so she can feed his fish. And then there’s the little matter of work.

He was glib about it to Ziva, but Vance and Gibbs will be problems. Neither of them take kindly to vacations on short notice. He stares at his cell phone, coming up with a plan of attack. He hedges his bets and calls Gibbs first. 

“Yeah.” Gibbs sounds about as relaxed as he sounds and Tony gives a silent thanks that no one has pissed him off in the last few hours. Their last case had been resolved with few issues and everything had gone well.

“Hey, boss. I just got a call. Family emergency.” A lie but not. Ziva is family. The emergency is that he has to get to Israel before she changes her mind about seeing him. 

Gibbs responds with a grunt and, “Oh yeah?” He might not be buying it, but Tony is not known for lying to him so he hears him out. 

“Yeah. I’ve gotta go out of the country for a little while.” Tony winces a little as he says the words. He has never mentioned family outside the country before. 

There is silence on the other line and Tony wonders, not for the first time, if Gibbs will reach his arm into the phone and slap the back of his head. He keeps silent, knowing he cannot add any more information. Liars overshare false information and he is determined not to do so. 

Eventually, Gibbs says, “Uh huh. Go. I’ll clear it with Vance. Tell Ziver we all say hi.” Then he hangs up. 

Tony stares at his phone. This proves it. The boss man has magical powers.

Although he is full of nervous energy, he forces himself to lay down in bed. His back is going to be killing him by the end of his trip but he finds that he does not care because she will be there. 

He thinks back to the last time he saw her. Not on the tarmac - that memory is still painful. But back in the olive grove and then the old house where she had grown up. He had thought it was the last time he would see her, so he had let loose all the feelings he had been holding back for years. She didn’t say anything but her actions conveyed how she felt, and this allowed them to have one night where lines could be crossed and nothing mattered except them. 

There was one thing he had said then that he knows now was wrong. He needs to tell her now that he will have the chance. 

He must have drifted off to sleep at some point because he wakes to his alarm in the morning. He glances at his phone, half thinking that he will see a text from Ziva telling him to cancel his trip. There’s no text from her. But there is one from Zoe.

_We still on for tonight?_  

Crap. He had forgotten that he had a date with his old colleague. He quickly texts her back. 

_Shit, sorry. I have to go out of the country suddenly._  

A few minutes later, she responds to him. _No problem. Call me when you get back and we’ll reschedule._

He knows he won’t call her. When they ran into each other earlier that week, they had hit it off. But who was he kidding? Even if things don’t work out with Ziva, he knows every subsequent woman he meets will still be compared to her.

It is going to work with Ziva. He is optimistic.

 

* * *

 

She wakes to plaintive cries and stretches her arms over her head as she heads to Tali’s room. Tali is standing in her crib and stops her crying as soon as Ziva walks in the room. “Good morning, matoki,” Ziva says, lifting the infant into her arms. Mother and daughter smile at each other and not for the first time, she is struck by her daughter’s eyes. Those eyes leave no doubt as to who her father is.

They are his eyes, hazel and always sparkling with mischief.

“Today you might meet your abba,” she tells the youngster. Tali points a pudgy hand in the direction of a small framed photo of Tony and Ziva on the back of a scooter in Paris. “Yes, that's abba.”

Ziva swallows down nervousness as she remembers that she will be seeing him in a few hours. That part does not make her nervous. The part where she tells him about Tali does. She knows he will not reject Tali, but he might never forgive her for not telling him sooner. 

She starts to curse herself for not calling him when she first found out she was pregnant. Then she takes a deep breath, puts Tali in her high chair, and goes about their breakfast routine. She has to let it go and forgive herself. She does not want Tali to grow up surrounded by her mother’s regrets, the way Ziva herself grew up surrounded by her mother’s regrets.

She has to trust that Tony will understand. 

After breakfast, she drives Tali over to Nettie’s house. “You are going to pick up the father, yes?” Nettie asks as she opens the door for them, even though she knows the answer. Another aunt, Chaya, takes Tali from Ziva’s arms and coos at her. 

“Yes, Nettie.” Ziva sighs as she drops Tali’s go bag onto the floor. 

“And we get to meet him?” Chaya chimes in. Aunt Miriam looks up from her book with an interested look on her face.

Ziva raises her eyebrows at them. “We shall see,” she responds. The Aunts frown at her. Before they can ask any more impertinent questions, she dashes out the door.

 

* * *

 

Tony wakes with a start when the plane experiences turbulence. The captain goes on the loudspeaker to announce that there is turbulence, the seatbelt sign is being turned back on, but they should be landing shortly in Barcelona. He narrows his eyes at the back of the seat in front of him and silently tells all the gods that they owe him and the plane had better not crash.

He had been having a nice dream of which he could only remember bits and pieces. He knows Ziva was there and they may have been dancing. They did that once - in Berlin, while hunting the man who killed Eli David. They were somewhere else in his dream. Somewhere outside. But he was happy and she was laughing at him. He wouldn’t mind having that dream again.

Better yet, he would like to make it a reality. Go somewhere that involves dancing outside, at night. With a live jazz band. He should see if there is someplace in Tel Aviv. 

A sudden jolt makes him bang his elbow on an armrest. He grits his teeth to keep from swearing out loud. The plane whooshes, then begins slowing down. They have landed in Barcelona. 

Only a few more hours.

 

* * *

 

She gets to the airport almost absurdly early. She did not want Tali to see her ima dissolve into a mess of nerves and emotions. Her stomach feels like it might flutter away, and she buys a smoothie in an attempt to settle it. She misses the Berry Mango Madness smoothies in DC. 

She paces from one end of baggage claim to the other to calm her nerves. She wishes she could go for a run but figures it would draw the suspicion of security. As it is, she probably looks like a crazy person. Every few laps, she stops to read the arrivals board. Tony’s flight from Barcelona is still listed as on time. 

Eventually she tires of having to dodge people and sits on a plastic seat with a sigh. She pulls a book out of her handbag and reads. She allows herself to look at her watch every third time she feels the urge to do so. Time has never gone by so slowly.

 

* * *

 

Finally, she looks at her watch and realizes his flight must have landed about six minutes ago. She jumps up and checks the arrivals board. It informs her that the flight arrived on time. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly. 

Her hands are shaking. This makes her want to laugh uncontrollably. She, a former Kidon unit member, who looked wanted terrorists in the eye and never backed down from a fight, she is shaking from the prospect of seeing a man.

Okay, a man she loves. But still just a man. 

She rolls her shoulders as she stands near the escalators that he will likely be descending and scans the crowds for his familiar handsome face.

 

* * *

 

“Welcome to Tel Aviv,” a perky flight attendant chirps. She announces the local time and Tony looks at his watch - it is way off but at this point in his travels, he cannot bring himself to care.

The crew goes about preparing to connect with a gate and shepard the passengers off the plane. He turns his cell phone back on - three text messages, one each from Abby, McGee, and Bishop. Abby’s message wins the award for most exclamation points. 

_Gibbs says you have a family emergency. In Israel?!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!_  

She should really lay off the Caf-Pow.

McGee’s and Bishop’s texts are more subdued. Neither of them mention Israel and he isn't sure if they just have more tact or if Gibbs left out that part about his family emergency. Or Abby is psychic and she guessed who the family in question was. 

She's really good at guessing. 

And possibly also psychic. 

He types a quick message to Abby, confirming that he is in Israel, then looks up to see that the people sitting a few aisles ahead of him are making their way down the narrow aisle. He shoves his phone into a pocket and grabs his backpack. He almost forgets his tan bag in the overhead bin but quickly remembers and grabs it once he steps into the aisle. His back cracks painfully in the process and he half expects himself to flop over at the waist like a rag doll. 

He doesn't, and he scurries off the plane as quickly as his six foot two frame can manage, flashing the flight attendants a bright DiNozzo grin on the way out. 

Almost there.

 

* * *

 

Sometimes shitty things happen. Nobody is immune, no matter how lucky they think they are. Some things are preventable, but some happen for no rhyme or reason. All that is left is devastation, broken dreams, and survivors to patch their lives back together.

But sometimes.

Sometimes good things happen. Again, it has nothing to do with luck. But when something good happens - something really good - it feels as if the cosmos have aligned just right. Every previous moment, every mistake and misunderstanding and missed chance, all of it led to this moment. And that makes all the stumbles and wrong turns worth it.

The good moments have to be appreciated at least as much as the bad ones are dwelt upon, regretted. The good makes up the best moments in life and everyone deserves to feel that happiness.

 

* * *

 

She sees him before he sees her. His face is tanned and handsome, and she sees his eyes - the eyes she loves so much, the ones Tali inherited - look around anxiously. When his eyes move toward her general direction, she can't help the grin and small wave. He relaxes and flashes a smile at her, then makes his way through the crowd to her. 

“Hi,” she says. Her eyes drink him in like they have been starving for months. 

“Sweetcheeks.” The old nickname suddenly makes her want to cry. Ever since pregnancy, she is more likely to tear up. She isn't sure if it's the hormones or just the fact that she is less robot assassin and more mother and therefore more connected to emotions these days.

He sees her eyes water and is alarmed. “Hey,” he says softly, touching her cheek. “What's wrong?” 

She rolls her eyes at herself. “Nothing. I am just happy to see you,” she explains. 

“Well, I'm happy to see you, too. You are a sight for sore and tired eyes.” 

He refuses to give her one of his bags, and they head to the parking garage. “I thought we would go back to the house first, relax a little,” she says, walking a little slower than usual because she knows his knee must be aching after the prolonged air time. 

He seems so tired from his journey that he either does not notice the car seat in the back seat of her sedan or it just does not register. He sinks down into the passenger seat, leans his head back, and looks at her. “You look good,” he tells her, his voice hushed.

She cannot help but lean over to kiss his cheek. “So do you,” she replies.

They drive back to the farmhouse, with him filling her in on what has been going on with the NCIS family. McGee’s continued relationship with Delilah makes her happy for her old friend, and she is very curious regarding Abby's reaction to said Delilah. She asks about her replacement and he tells her about perky, well adjusted Ellie Bishop. Mostly she keeps him talking so he does not have time to ask her questions just yet. 

Once they arrive at the house, she takes a deep breath and feels a sensation similar to falling. She is surrounded by memories of the last time he was in the house and she wonders if he is having the same thoughts. She sits silently and gauges his reactions. 

He looks around, smiles at the framed photos she has hung of the team, including one of the two of them from their brief time in Paris. He recognizes the photo of Ziva and Tali as children, but not the one of baby Tali. His glance passes over it without pause and she thinks he must believe it to be her sister as an infant. 

Then he stops, does an almost comical full circle, takes in the high chair at the kitchen table, the infant swing that Tali has outgrown, and the toys scattered around the house. 

He turns to her, a confused look on her face. “I see you did some redecorating,” he says. “You babysit in your spare time?” 

“No.” She looks him in the eye and she sees the moment he pieces the clues together.

“You have a child.” He says it slowly, almost with wonder. 

She continues looking at him steadily. “Yes,” she responds simply.

He goes over to the photos he had glanced over previously. She supposes he is looking for additional clues, anything he may have missed. “Uh, anything else you failed to mention?” He blinks. “You're not married, are you?” 

“No.” 

The relief on his face is palpable, but he looks almost bewildered. She watches his face as he processes the new information. Then his brow furrows. “How old?” 

She swallows. “She turns one year old later this month.” 

He is silent as he does the math. She holds her breath, unsure of what he'll do next. 

And then he looks at her, his eyes unreadable. “Am I…?” His question dies in his mouth before he can finish it. 

“Yes,” she says honestly and simply. The truth hangs in the air between them. 

He takes a deep breath and sits down on the nearest chair as it sinks in. She sees him swallow once, then twice. He opens his mouth to speak a few times but stops. He focuses on something on the floor. 

She wants to rush to him, to explain, to beg for forgiveness. Instead, she stays where she is, silent, watching him. Instinctively, she knows she needs to give him time.

“Why didn't you tell me?” he asks faintly, still not looking at her. 

“I… I did not want to disrupt your life.” Her reasoning sounds so ridiculous out loud. 

He frowns at the floor. “That's a load of crap,” he retorts. 

She closes her eyes briefly, guilt washing over her. “I know. I realized eventually how wrong I was. But that was how I felt at the time. I knew you would have come back and I did not want to trap you. Also, I have ruined so many lives, why did I deserve to be happy and have a family?” 

Finally, he looks up at her and she wishes he didn't. The hurt in his eyes makes her want to run. “You should have told me,” he says. 

“Yes. That is why I am telling you now.” She feels like she has not breathed in decades.

“You didn't have to go through it alone. I would have been here in an instant. But you didn't even give me a choice.” 

He doesn't seem mad, just hurt. And betrayed. She almost wishes he would yell at her. “I am sorry,” she says quietly, now unable to look at him. The shame washes over her in waves and she lets herself drown in it.

“And you keep talking about what you _deserve_. Everyone deserves to be happy, Ziva. It's not a weakness to want it, and being unhappy doesn't fix anything for anyone.” 

At his words, her vision blurs. Before she is completely overwhelmed and shuts him out, a lifeboat appears in the form of a question. “Can I meet her?” he asks. 

Her eyes dart up to meet his. He still looks hurt, but he hasn't pushed her away either. “Yes, of course,” she says. Despite what he just said about deserving things, she thinks about how she does not deserve him. 

He looks around again. “Is she here?” 

“No, she is with my Aunt Nettie.” Despite the seriousness of the moment, despite the big secret she just revealed and the guilt still weighing heavily, she finds herself fighting back laughter at his sudden look of alarm. 

She remembers the way Tony yelled into the phone years ago, threatening Nettie. And the mortification on his face. She didn't tell him, but for years after, Nettie had taken a great interest in him - always referring to him as her “strong, protective husband.” 

Maybe it is too soon to allow the Aunts to meet him. After all, she has just dropped a bomb on him. She deviates a bit from her original plan. “I will bring Tali back here and you can meet her without the Aunts all over you.” 

A look of comprehension washes over his face. “You named her after your sister.” 

“Yes. It was the only name that seemed right. I will be back in 20 minutes with Tali. Please do not leave.” She adds that last part unnecessarily. She knows he won't go anywhere, that he is intensely curious about his daughter - _their_ daughter.

 

* * *

 

Tony doesn't move after she leaves to pick up Tali.

A daughter. He doesn't know whether to laugh or cry. So he just sits there. 

He thinks back to his last night in Israel, before she sent him to go on with his life without her. He had known then that there was nothing he could do to change her mind, that he would be going back to the States without her. After they buried her new list of wills in the olive grove, he had told her that he was fighting for her and they had kissed. She had led him back to the house, up to her bed.

He should have stopped her. It would just make the separation all that more difficult. But he didn’t.

They had slept together the previous night, after he had pounded on the front door in the middle of the night, exhausted and desperate, waking her. They had collided like two supernovae with few words exchanged between them. He had been so relieved that his mission was accomplished at long last, that he had finally found her, safe and sound. He, to this day, has no idea what was going through her mind. He thinks that maybe she was lonely - she had been living alone for months. Maybe she had missed him as much as he missed her. Whatever the reason, passion had bubbled up and spilled over between them.

The next day, she had realized how many of her cards she had revealed to him and she withdrew. He awoke to an empty bed and gone down to find an angry, sad, distant Ziva. He had pushed his way back in, and wound up back in her bed. While the previous night had been full of raw passion, this was a slow burn. Even though he was touching her bare skin, enveloped in her scent, he was already filled with a longing that he had already known he would never escape. 

One of these times had created a life.

He always thought that if he met the right woman, he would like to have a child. This wasn’t exactly what he had in mind, but it also wasn’t the love child born from a one night stand, which had been a longstanding nightmare during his skirt-chasing days. 

This is a child born out of love. He had no idea when he fell in love with Ziva. There had always been chemistry there but somewhere along the way, he had woken up and realized that he loved her. This is why he went to Somalia to avenge her alleged death, why he criss-crossed the middle east for months searching for her. This is why he made the toughest 180 of his life and got on that plane. 

This is why he came now, even after she had broken his heart.

There is no way he is not going to be a part of this child’s life. He is determined. Ziva must be okay with this, or she wouldn’t have told him in the first place. She knows him.

For the first time in a long time, he feels a sense of purpose he hadn’t been aware he was missing.

 

* * *

 

Ziva returns, carrying Tali, who is clutching a little stuffed dog. She had thought it highly unlikely that Tony would leave but is relieved to see him still sitting in the same spot. She gently places their daughter on the floor and steps back, watching his reaction play out on his face. He is taking in Tali’s brown curls, hazel eyes. The child gazes back at him, then smiles. “Abba,” she states.

A look of wonder comes over his face. “She knows me,” he says quietly. “She knows who I am.” He looks up at Ziva and she smiles back at him. 

“Of course.” She had shown her pictures of him starting when she was born, before she had decided to tell Tony. She always knew she would tell him, it had just been a matter of when. “I told her stories about you, too.”

He raises his eyebrows at her. “Good ones, I hope,” he replies, looking back down at Tali, who was hugging her stuffed dog and saying “kelev kelev kelev” to herself. “Half of what she told you about me is not true,” he tells the tot. 

Ziva smirks.

He moves to sit on the floor near Tali and smiles at her. “Is your doggy named Kelev?” he asks her. 

She looks at him and blinks, her eyes bright. “Kelev,” she replies in her little girl voice. 

“Kelev means ‘dog’ in Hebrew,” Ziva supplements. “It is difficult to know for certain but I think it was her first word. She loves dogs.” 

“Just like your mom,” he says to Tali. 

Ziva silently watches the two of them sit on the floor and play with the stuffed dog. Any nervousness that Tony had shown toward children in the past is nonexistent. He is gentle and patient, while retaining his slightly off-kilter sense of humor. She even catches him quoting a movie to her.

For just a minute, she allows herself to think about a future with the three of them as a family. Living in a house that is not this one - this house belongs to the past and Ziva is done looking at the past. Plus, they are all US citizens and Tony’s job is there. They will have a dog and Tali will grow up with the love of both of her parents. She and Tony will raise their daughter together - this is a certainty that she had never allowed herself to believe before - and they will have a relationship. One not hidden or forbidden by arbitrary rules. 

This future life takes her breath away with its beautiful simplicity. She still has trouble believing that it is possible for her. It feels like a gift, one she does not wholly deserve, but it is in front of her and her name is attached to it anyway. 

She remembers that anything is possible, even for broken former assassins.

 

* * *

 

_It's all so simple when you break it all down_

_Two roads converged down a hollow ground_

_It's taken all my life to hear the sacred sound of sweet simplicity saying_

_Give it all up, it don't mean a thing_

_You have a short lived life and a song to sing_

_And the only way up is believing in never looking down._

 

* * *

 

END.

**Author's Note:**

> Lyrics at the end by Sara Bareilles. Feedback greatly appreciated. I am new to the NCIS fanfiction world and have not written fanfic in probably 10 years.


End file.
